


Fisherman's Blues (but not really)

by stubliminalmessaging



Series: Shameless (US) A.U.gust [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AUgust - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, also xenophobia, basically terry is a an awful person and the beliefs he pushes on his offspring are too, merman au, teeny tiny bit of angst, tiniest bits of homophobia, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2195208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merman Ian doesn't even need to sing a siren's song to have Mickey completely entangled in him. Mickey figures if he's under a spell he's perfectly content to never come out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fisherman's Blues (but not really)

**Author's Note:**

> nyehehehehe
> 
> named after a song by the waterboys. not really relevant but it was the nautical-themed song I liked best when I was scrolling through my ipod

                “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mickey grumbled as he sat up and crawled over to the edge of his boat. At first he thought he’d hooked something he could throw in the cooler to appease his dad, but based on the lack of give when he tugged on his line he’d probably just snagged a rock or some plants or garbage or some shit.

 

                He leaned over the edge of his boat and started jerking and wiggling his line with one hand and precariously holding his rod with the other. It wasn’t really a surprise to him when he accidentally leaned too far and tumbled headfirst into the ocean.

 

                The first thing he thought was ‘fuck’ so many times over and for so many reasons. It would be hard to get back into his boat since he was out by himself and the water was too deep for him to touch the bottom. His shoes would take a fucking year to dry. His clothes would smell like briny fishy seawater until he washed them (and he avoided doing laundry like the plague, so they would just lay around and stink up whatever room he dumped them in). He’d also lost his rod in the fall and unless he wanted to swim to the bottom to find it he’d be out a couple hundred bucks and his dad would beat him senseless and make him buy a new one. And to top it all off, his phone was in his pocket and there was no way it wasn’t fucked after being thoroughly soaked like this.

 

                He took a quick look around to see if he could see his rod but it blended in on the ocean floor and he deemed the quest hopeless. He paddled over to the edge of his boat to attempt to haul himself back in and pack up what was left of his shit and drag it all back home where he would mope and avoid his dad and try to dry out his phone.

 

                Something grabbed his ankle and his slippery grip on the edge of the boat failed. He just managed to get a breath in before he went under. His attacker’s hand left his ankle and he flailed his arms to catch it. He couldn’t see through the cloudy water where he’d kicked up dirt and he thought he’d lost the thing until, entirely accidentally, his hand closed around a wiry forearm and held on. He held on tight and felt with his other hand until his fingers tangled in a fistful of hair.

 

                Now that he had a grip on the fucker he was able to kick his feet hard to get to the surface to get a breath. That achieved, he blinked the salt water from his eyes and took a look at his attacker. And okay, red hair had always kind of been a thing for him and he’d be blind not to see that, but Mickey couldn’t make out much else besides that and pale skin muddy with freckles. He couldn’t see anything below the navel with how dirty the water was, but that didn’t matter much. He had nice hair and a really ripped torso and arms but he’d fucked with Mickey and no one walked away from that without shitting themselves with fear.

 

                He held the guy under, intent on keeping him away from the surface until his struggles got dire enough that he’d learned his lessons about fucking with badasses like Mickey. He held him down there for a while and the guy wasn’t even struggling. What the actual fuck? As if that wasn’t weird enough, Mickey had him held underwater for a ridiculously long period of time and was starting to wonder _… is he dead? Did I kill the kid?_

 

                He tipped back his head to see the kid’s face but instead of glazed eyes and blue lips Mickey was met with bright green eyes and a mischievous smirk. The next second Mickey noticed the fluttering gills on either side of his neck and his breath caught in his throat.

 

                “Shit,” he gasped, letting go of the merman as if he’d been electrocuted. Once he was free, he broke the surface and grinned at Mickey, eyebrows arching. He only surfaced enough that the water still touched his chin, keeping his gills under the water’s surface. He reached up one hand and pushed his hair back out of his eyes with his webbed fingers. His knuckles shimmered with clusters of pale scales along them and Mickey couldn’t help feeling enamored as he watched the sunlight sparkle off them.

 

                “Careful a fish doesn’t jump in there,” the merman commented after a moment of watching Mickey gape at him. He reached out and nudged Mickey’s chin, playfully pushing his slack jaw up. “Though I guess it’d be more than what you’ve caught today, huh? You been a fisherman long? You seem like a clutz on the water.”

 

                “You’re a fucking merman,” Mickey said instead of answering. He found he couldn’t talk while the merman was – he just couldn’t focus when that soft melodic voice was winding through his head. He knew merpeople were magic and that their voices were their greatest weapon but if he was under a spell right then he’d give anything to never come out of it.

 

                Mickey had seen merpeople before, but never alive. Just clammy slimy corpses, usually decapitated and sometimes with their tails split up the middle in a grotesque impression of human legs. The things he’d seen his dad do to merpeople, for no discernible reason, made him self-conscious and sick to his core, but he had to put up a front. His dad used a lot of excuses for why he constantly beat Mickey up, but to grant mercy to merfolk or show an interest in them (beyond wanting to wipe every last one off the face of the earth in the bloodiest way possible) was the worst offense imaginable. There was no doubt that his dad would kill him if he could see him now, hawking at this creature with longing eyes and a hard dick.

 

                “Yup,” the merman said, gesturing to himself and bringing Mickey out of his thoughts. His hand entered the water with a gentle splash as he indicated his whole body. “Gills, tail. Got it all. Anyways, I’m Ian. You?”

 

                “Mickey,” he answered, still stunned by this creature mere inches away from him. He thought of everything his father had ever told him; about merpeople and their powers, about his obligation to carry on the family business since his brothers were useless, and all of it stopped mattering when he looked at Ian. In spite of his family’s prejudices, he’d known for years who he was and what he liked, and he couldn’t help his body’s physical reaction to being this close to the object of his fantasies.

 

                The worst (read: best) part of it was his tail, and as the dirt in the water settled he saw more and more of it. It was mottled blue-green mishmash of scales, a perfect natural camouflage against the sea and its terrain. His pelvis and hips were lightly scaled, gradually giving way to a seamless stretch of his lower body. The fin on the edge of his tail was a bit battered, flicking about in the water and catching light as it hit it.

 

                Mickey blinked and smacked Ian’s hand away as it shook his shoulder. “Fuck off,” he snarled reflexively, even though he had no idea if Ian had said something or asked him a question or what. When the merman continued to look at him smugly Mickey narrowed his eyes as insolently as possible and snapped; “You fuckin’ want somethin’?”

 

                “Yeah,” Ian said, looking more like a cocky asshole than Mickey would have thought possible. He stroked a webbed hand down Mickey’s chest, over his soaked shirt and under water to the waistband of his pants, to settle on his erection where it strained against the front of his jeans. “I want you to let me take care of this.”

 

                Mickey didn’t respond right away (because how fuck do you even respond to _that_ other than to babble _yesyesyesyesyes_ over and over again like Mickey was in his head) and Ian took the initiative. He ducked back down under, the top of his red head disappearing beneath the surface.

 

                If you’d told Mickey the day before that he’d be on the receiving end of a blowjob from a merman, he would probably have punched you or worse depending on how pissed off he was about his dad and his life that day. As it was, he bit his lip to hold in the sound that threatened to escape as Ian mouthed at his prick through his jeans. It was different than any other blowjob Mickey had received (yes, he wasn’t a complete fucking loser, just a lonely abrasive merman fetishist) in that it was less wet since he was floating in the fucking ocean and more warm with such deliciously stark contrast to how cold the rest of him was since he was floating in the fucking ocean.

 

                Mickey also found that he was basically helpless since he couldn’t get his feet under him and that really shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. The only thing keeping him grounded to planet earth was Ian and his mouth. Mickey’s nerves lit up as he felt scaled webbed fingers fumble with his jeans, scaled knuckles brushing against his belly and hips where his shirt floated up in the water.

 

                It took a bit longer than if Mickey had undone them himself due to Ian’s aquatic hands but Mickey wouldn’t change it. Every touch was like a new flame igniting against his skin and soon enough Mickey’s pants were open and his dick was out and it would’ve only taken another second but he’d never been so glad to not have any clean underwear. One less layer, one less problem.

 

                Ian swallowed him down and the world basically ended. Mickey tried to buck his hips but found that without anything to push off of he was just wiggling futilely while Ian started blowing him enthusiastically.

 

                It took a little struggling but Mickey eventually managed to reach the edge of his boat and hold on to it. It gave him a little bit of stability and allowed him to thrust into Ian’s mouth, not that the merman needed the encouragement.

 

                He kept one hand clutched on the edge of his little boat while the other sunk down under the water and tangled into messy red hair. Mickey tugged on Ian’s hair gently, leaning his head against the side of his boat and letting out a sigh of appreciation. Ian hummed around Mickey and he almost let go of his boat and sunk into the sea. He would have been perfectly content to be lost in the waves if it meant Ian would finish him and let him have his oblivion.

 

                Mickey felt his soaked jeans getting tugged further down hips until they bunched up halfway down his thighs. He felt Ian’s hands spread over his ass, squeezing his cheeks and digging his nails into Mickey’s flesh enough to make him whimper.

 

                Ian didn’t even have to get a finger into Mickey before he broke. He squeezed and kneaded Mickey’s ass, pulling his cock in deeper and tilting his pelvis to get more dick down his throat. Somewhere in some unimportant part in the back of his mind he could swear something was off about this blowjob and when he realized what it was he nearly shot off instantly. Every other blowjob Mickey had gotten had the guy (or girl, usually. Unfortunately) pulling back frequently to rest their jaw and breathe. Ian had him down his throat, trachea pulsating, the entire time Mickey’s dick had been out, and he hadn’t had to stop to get his breath once because he didn’t breathe through his mouth. It was hot enough to begin with (getting deepthroated meant having his partner pulling back every ten seconds to cough and that was hard to deal with sometimes and usually not worth the effort) but when it was so specifically linked to the thing that turned on Mickey the most he felt like he was melting inside. He never would have thought that his biggest fantasy would become a reality, especially not while his father was still alive or capable of haunting the fuck out of him.

 

                One of Ian’s fingers barely even had to brush over Mickey’s hole before he was choking on his moans and pressing his face against the side of his boat and he unloaded down Ian’s throat. The metal side of the boat was cool but Mickey was burning up.

 

                Too soon after he’d come, Ian’s webbed hand settled over Mickey’s where it clutched at his hair and carefully pried his fingers free. Mickey hung off his boat with both hands now, panting where he leaned against his boat. Ian surfaced right next to Mickey, smirking at him. If Mickey wasn’t feeling so loose and pliant and perfect, he’d probably say something douchey to him or hit him or something. As it was, he just clung to the side of his boat and caught his breath.

 

                Ian seemed to be content as he floated there next to Mickey and watched him, proud of the mess he’d made of him. After another moment Mickey turned to him and eyes him from head to tail, gaze hungry and smile crooked and filthy. “So what’s your dick situation like?”

 

                The merman took Mickey by the shoulders and spun him around, pinning him against his little boat and kissing him. He’d give Mickey a lesson in merman anatomy until he was screaming with satisfaction at receiving such knowledge. He deserved it after all, being the first human to ever catch him. Having a worthy adversary turned Ian the fuck on and Mickey didn’t seem to be complaining about how he worked out his energy.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll let you imagine the fish dick for yourself


End file.
